Category Archives: Writing

So, as most people know, I can’t really function without my kids. I love them so much it’s painful being away from them. Trust me when I say I try to put my thoughts and efforts into other things, it’s not as helpful as I wished it was.

I miss my kiddos.

Plain and simple fact.

I try to drowned out the loneliness, the not having Troy around to tell me seventy different stories in one breathedness, with chatting with friends, with sleeping, with coding. It’s not nearly as helpful as I’d wish it would be. It really sucks when I want to chat and no one is on to talk.

Like this:

Well I’m trying to get myself settled into new things, including a new theme for the site. I’m going to try and post more regularly again. I’m not sure I’ll do daily posts like I tried to do before but I may try to do a post every three days.

Other projects I’m working on right now are 3 story blogs. One is Knights of Cydonia One is Card Rebellion and the last is I <3 Fangs. The last one is a collaborative one with Ghost but the rest are just for me. I’m thinking I may start pouring my RP energy into these instead.

I’ve been feeling the lack lusterness of just everything. It’s likely the time of the year and all that jazz but things will hopefully go better.

Move goals:
Start Yoga again
Write a post a day for one of my 5 blogs (Morrgasm, Morrigan’s Madness, KoC, CR or I <3 Fangs).
Try new dinner or dessert (or both) dish once a week.
Post an image a day to Instagram.

I hope you enjoy the new theme. I’ll start displaying more of my space work as I go.

Like this:

So I enjoy smiling and I hate giving tight lipped smiles so that people can’t see the teeth that have gotten smacked and broken and continue to break over time. I want to get it fixed and it’s really expensive, to the point that dental insurance wouldn’t even cover it. They probably wouldn’t cover any of my mouth to be completely honest.

That’s why I’m reaching out. If I can get the money together I want to go under and come out with brand new teeth. Dentures simply aren’t an option for me.

That being said! I need your help!

Go here and donate to help me get my smile back! Please!?

Top ten donators will be able to suggest a cosplay that I will attempt to do!

Like this:

So, as everyone knows, I roleplay. I love to roleplay, I love to write collaboratively with other people and I love to simply enjoy people.

Well, one thing about roleplayers is that we like specific genres because that’s the flavor of writing we like to enjoy. One thing that perturbs me is that so many people akin the work “fantasy” to elves and dwarves when, fantasy is anything that isn’t realistic. Now the thing that really confuses me is that the word itself is immediately constituted with something medieval.

So that got me to thinking: What is fantasy exactly?

Well, fantasy is anything that isn’t reality basically. So why the label of Medieval? Probably something akin to media stating that Medieval movies are “Fantasy” and that Science Fiction is “Sci-Fi” but really? They are leaving off words, words that are important to people that write. I even stress to say that a Historical roleplay is a “Historical Fantasy”. No matter the time frame as it is not reality. It’s not like me typing up this long babbling post about my confusion of the word itself.

So Fantasy is a word to mean, not real life. My point is, when I ask what sort of Fantasy I’m looking to find what your flavor of fantasy you prefer. All roleplays are fantasy (even the real life based ones) so it easier to define your genre.

I am a fantasy enthusiast, I stray toward Science Fiction more than Modern or Medieval but I enjoy Fantasy. How about you?

Like this:

Okay, so I administrate over at Distant Fantasies and as such, on a regular basis get to see new sites or existing sites as I just browse the DF Directory. As such I find sites that strike my fancy and while I am not a chronic site joiner I love to be able to suggest sites to my friends and I’ve noticed this blaring trend of waffling.

Now I say that and your first instinct is ‘wtf is waffling’ but waffling is a failure for one to make up their mind. Mind you, I’m a queen waffler IRL.

Next question you ask is ‘wtf are they waffling about’? Well that’s where it gets interesting. It’s their word count. Now mind you, I’m an avid anti-word count advocate. I find that I have as much potency in a one line post as some people feel that you only get from hundreds, if not thousands, of words. That notwithstanding though, I don’t like reading things like:

We’re a no word count site but……

But what? Are you a no word count site or aren’t you? There is no buts in such a statement unless you’re not, in fact, a no word count site. If you add in a “but we like to see at least three paragraphs” or “we prefer that you have at least 200 words” then why don’t you make that you’re minimum? A “no word count” site means that I can post one word or I can post ten thousand but there is absolutely no restriction on how many I am required to put into that post box.

After I read this and it infuriated me, I talked to my boyfriend Cricket about this. Mind you, my boyfriend is a DnD based roleplayer, he uses his dice to determine things while I use communication with my partner. I asked him if he had this type of thing in his campaign, these types of players and he said that he did except his players are overly wordy for the sake of trying to cover all of there basis so they don’t get killed. “I turned the knob to the left really slowly before pushing the door open, just as slowly as to not make a sound” and we both didn’t know of a single person that was legitimately that careful, especially when you consider the setting. I explained to him that for my format that people felt themselves on a higher rank than you due to the amount of words that they post, no matter how relevant or important those words were to be able to progress the story line.

The conversation continued and he asked about how relevant the post content was and I advised him 70-90 percent of it is fluff to fill the word count or time travel posting (time travel posting is responding to parts of the previous post because the previous roleplayer continued past that point and didn’t giv eyou ample opportunity to respond even though your character, would in fact, respond). Time travel posting incites more time travel posting which incites more fluff to fill an arbitrary number for a ranking system that only exists in the minds of the players themselves.

I’m a 17 year play by post roleplayer. I have been through the advanced years when 1200 words were the minimum to be considered a part of the roleplay elite of “Advanced” and I’ve been through the years that 600 words was that and now the new trend is “no word count but”. I’m an advanced roleplayer and after all this time I’ve come to finally a zen point in my roleplaying time to have finally figured out that:

This is just a game. I shouldn’t feel like getting onto my roleplay sites is a job. There is no reason for this and I should feel like my relaxation hobby is a chore. Word counts make it a chore.

A word count is an arbitrary number to keep up a fascist belief that more is better. I’m going to fill you in, that if it doesn’t contribute to the plot then it’s likely not worth your time to type it out. How many books have you read that a character inner monologues for pages, upon pages, upon pages, that actually keep your interest and doesn’t progress the plot. Sure you can talk about your childhood tragedy for 400 words but how does that help your character now, or the plot that you are trying to progress but posting about how your character shifts uncomfortably and gets a look in their eye that someone might be able to see, that’s proper writing. Yes, I reduced 400 words into a single sentence but the single sentence is far more potent.

Word counts kill the muse. I’ve read posts that are amazingly long that give me absolutely nothing to reply to and one liners that speak volumes in themselves that inspire me to write a thousand words. If the situation calls for the post then post it but don’t strangle me with your words because you are obligated or you feel a better sense of self by posting a longer post. It perpetuates a lie that your quality cannot be seen by posting something less then some arbitrary number.

Confucius say: “Do not use a cannon to kill a mosquito.” I can’t say how appropriate this is. Your concise words should speak the volumes in your character actions.

Really in the end you will play the site you’re comfortable with and if that’s the site that requires 3 paragraphs or nine million words per post, then so be it. I just request that you stop your waffling and either say your no word count because you are or say your a word/paragraph count site because that’s what you are. There is no reason to have a but in your rule about count minimums if you have one set in your mind.

Like this:

“You’ve never seen anything like this next act. You’ve seen fire dancers and fire spinners the next act is… well a fire master. Presenting the one and only Ignaciooooooo Flint!” the man in the center spun around in a circle to the empty circus tent as if he were introducing this person.

A slow clap echoed toward me from the closed entrance. “You do have quite a flair for being a ringmaster. It’s too bad that I have that job.”

“Mordria,” the man stumbled over his own shoes falling to the floor. “I… I didn’t mean any offense I just….”

“You just what? Felt the desire to see what it was like to be me? It’s not as easy as being in an empty room,” she smiled her bluish pale skin shining with a strange luminosity that only she seemed to have. He found it unnerving although her other features were equally as disturbing. The stitches near her mouth were certainly not helpful with her frown as she approached him.

“I just,” he swallowed hard as he scrambled to his feet, wiping himself off. “I like what you do, I wish I could do it.” He didn’t look to her, he knew what was coming next. She would reprimand him and tell him to stop dreaming.

“Unfortunately for you young one, in a circus of the damned no one retires. Take me for example. I have been around for longer then I remember. Victim of voodoo and vampirism. I barely keep myself together yet I have not left. I cannot leave and I cannot die. I will be ringmaster for eternity,” she informed him solemnly. No reprimand, no lecture. She was reaching out for his help.

“Perhaps I could do your job. If you let me, give you a break for a few centuries?”

“Haha,” she laughed shortly a smile brought to her face. “That is cute. You cannot handle my job though,” she picked up his shoes, holding them out to him. “The others would eat you alive.”

“Not if you help me,” he pleaded as she dropped the boots into his arms. “I can do this.”

“The woman reached up and stroked the side of his face. “Sweet vampire,” she said smiling to expose her own teeth, “what makes you think that I would let you do my job?”

“You-ou-ou sound so, uh…” he looked hugging the boots to his chest. “You sounded like you needed a break. I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh, I’m tired but you’re scared of me.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” he gulped.

“You’re right,” she smiled darkly to him as he started to back away from her. “If you run you might be able to get away from me. Vampire blood sustains me far better then human blood,” she said with a cocky raise of her brow. The man started out of the tent from the direction that she came in, pulling on his left boot. He continued on holding his right boot in his hand. “Run, run little vampire,” she whispered as she looked over her shoulder.

The man continued to run through the woods between the circus and the small town. All he could hear was the thudding of his footsteps and the branches as the slapped him. He was getting away. She was going to let him live. He started to slow down a smile creeping onto his face as he slumped against the nearby tree. He breathed a sigh of relief, a human action that showed his youth. “I made it,” he said quietly to himself.

A light laugh came from behind the tree, “You can’t think I’d give up that easily could you?” the woman said as she stepped from behind the tree, her black boots quiet even with the underbrush. The man closed his eyes shoving the picture of the woman in the black and white corset out of his mind as he began to pray muttering to himself.

“If you meet her, tell her that I still want to be saved,” she whispered, her cold breath on his neck. He wished this wasn’t his fate, he didn’t want to be stuck there forever but this? The cool lips of death brushed against the skin of his neck. Then there was the searing pain of her fangs as they sank into his neck. Slowly the pain ebbed into a soft numbness as his right shoe fell from his arm and thudded to the ground.

PS. Weekend with the family was fabulous. I love you Cricket. I love you Fae. I love you Troy.